


What's in a name?

by forgetmemorylane



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-12-31 22:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18323585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmemorylane/pseuds/forgetmemorylane
Summary: "Would you like your names now?" Mom asked, clasping her hands gently in front of her.The Hargreaves kids finally get their names.





	What's in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 1st ever fanfic. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> The illustrations were done by me.

As the Umbrella Academy kids grew older, and gained enough exposure to the outside world to understand that most children had names, they started to ask their father for more than just numbers.

Their father did not see the utility in naming them. After all, he knew perfectly well who was who by their number. With numbers to identify them, Sir Hargreeves was able to tell who he was speaking about, where they came from, their abilities and their progress in their training. Besides, he used their numbers as shorthand for note taking. Names would only slow down their training and give them individuality that would interfere with their potential as a cohesive weapon.

The children had almost given up asking until one day their mother, Grace, spoke up.

"I could give the children names," Mom offered.

"I see no utility in it, but if you must," Sir Hargreeves waved his hand dismissively, his eyes already returning to his work.

The children knew enough not to speak, not to draw their father's attention to them, or the magic of this moment might dissipate. Names! The room vibrated with their excitement.

Mom backed slowly out of the room, careful to not make a sound. She respected Mr. Hargreeves, who was a good man who had given so much, Grace knew, and he needed space and quiet when he was hard at work. It was time to go. "Come along children," she said.

The children filed out quietly, following mom down to the kitchen.

The kids took their seats and Mom moved to her spot at the end of the table, still smiling. A dreamy look in her eyes the only hint of the figuring her operating system was just now completing.

Grace considered each child in turn by the numbers they had been assigned as they were found and added to the family by Mr. Hargreeves. Mom knew their stories, the details were there in her memory banks and her programming. She knew so much, she felt she'd been there their whole lives, even though that didn't make sense - they were already 6 years old when she joined them. Grace took a minute to acknowledge those lost years of their babyhood. She was sorry she hadn't been there, after all being their mother was her greatest joy and honour. She wanted to make sure that they each had the perfect name to represent their place in the family.

"Would you like your names now?" she asked, clasping her hands gently in front of her.

"Yes, please, Mom," Number 2 smiled sweetly up at her, his eyes filled with the love and trust that he offered no one else. 

He fought against his father's rules and his brother's leadership, always wondering why he couldn't be the number one, but he was hungry for all the love he could gain from Mom. Perhaps this was because his natural mother, a newly married Spanish woman of only twenty two, had been extremely reluctant to lose her new child. Mr. Hargreeves had had to part with a significant sum to gain this particular child. Perhaps Number 2 had an innate sense of his own worth and this was why he chafed at his secondary position.

"You're Diego," she replied, turning her smile on him. It meant "Supplanter" and Grace hoped that he would someday find strength within himself instead of looking to his father and brother for acknowledgment and validation.

Diego beamed back, "Awesome!" He turned and punched his brother, Number 1, on the shoulder. "I'm first this time!"

Number 1 didn't laugh, "What's my name, mom?"

Mom turned her smile on Number One. He was strong - surprisingly strong - and he loved to boss and lead his siblings based on their father's rules. Grace knew there was nothing he loved more than clear orders and he would never question Mr. Hargreeve's authority. His blind loyalty to his father reminded Grace of people in the army, who were trained to follow orders without question. Grace found a match in her mind, a name that means "army people". 

"You're Luther," she said.

Luther squinted at Grace. “Luther…” he said, trying out his new name. “Ok, thanks mom. I like it” he nodded and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms and looking around at all of his siblings. 

Looking at this blond, overly confident boy, Grace remembered that he was born to an older woman of 68 who had no business having a baby at her age; it was quite the scandal in her small German village. Sir Reginald was able to trade the baby for a small yearly allowance to the family. Grace knew that the payments were still transferred automatically from Sir Reginald's account each and every year on October 1st. It was strange, perhaps, that Luther, with all of his confidence and strength, had come from a situation so filled with shame.

“What about me, mom?” asked Number Six, reaching out and gently tugging on her skirt. 

Mom reached out and straightened his tie, which was always out of place. What was the best name for this sweet boy with his nose always in a book, who seemed like everyone's child because he was so much smaller and quieter than his brothers and sisters? How about a name that means "son" - Ben. Putting her hand gently on his head, she told him his name.

“Oh! Like Benjamin Franklin,” he said, grinning. 

Smiling back, Grace marvelled at how this dear child had been handed over to his father with very little hesitation by his family. Ben was found on a farm in Saskatchewan, Canada, having been born to a middle aged mother who had been sure she was done with raising babies. The family parted with Ben just as easily as they parted each season with young livestock on their farm. They set a price, Mr. Hargreeves agreed and paid, and that was that.

Grace noticed Number Three watching Ben, as well, and smiling to herself. Grace knew that, since baby Three was brought home from Chicago where she was born to a young student at Northwestern, Number 3 had always held her head high and always got her own way. Grace thought a name that captured the girl’s strong and demanding spirit would be best, so she settled on Allison, a name that means "noble".

“Allison,” mom told her, smiling.

“Allison? Great!” Number Three grinned back.

“How about me, mom?” Number Seven asked softly, not wanting to draw too much of her siblings attention to herself.

“Oh yes,” Mom said, turning in Seven’s direction. “A name for you.” 

Number Seven, of all the children, was the one that made mom feel the most conflicted. Mom’s programming allowed no room for questioning Mr. Hargreeve’s methods. Mom knew, though, that this child had great strength and fierceness but that her powers and identify has been smothered by Allison's rumours and Sir Hargreeve's drugs. 

Mom’s programming won out and she concluded that Number Seven, the one forced to silence, deserved a name that went along with how regular she appeared. To help Sir Hargreeves with the illusion he was building. Settled finally on the name Vanya, a Russian name in honour of Vanya's young mother, who had given birth to her in a swimming pool, or at least near a swimming pool. Vanya, mom decided, was a very regular name because it is a variant of the name John and John is the most common name in the US. In fact, unknown people were given the name John Doe. Grace thought their own John Doe, the hidden girl, deserved a name that told her story.

“Your name is Vanya.”

“Thank you,” Vanya looked down at her hands, “It’s pretty.”

“What about Number Four?” Ben asked, nudging his brother who was dozing next to him. “Four! Wake up! Mom has your name.” 

Number four stirred and slowly opened his eyes, turning them to look at mom. “Yes?” he drew the word out, taking his time with the sound of it.

Number four had had a sad beginning to life. He’d been abandoned by his teenage mother after she gave birth unexpectedly by herself in a bathroom in a park in Northern Germany. He had cost nothing to adopt, but Grace knew that Mr. Hargreeves harbored high hopes for the boy’s abilities.

With her mind on the adversity that this little one had already overcome in his short life, and Sir Reginald's hopes for him, Grace settled on the name Klaus, which means "the people's victory", in the hopes that he would overcome the challenges past and ahead.

“Klaus,” she told him.

“Nice! It’s a weird name for weird little me,” he raised his eyebrows at Ben, who laughed.

“You and your name are not as weird as you like to think,” Five called from near the door.

"Five," said Luther, "What are you doing over there? Come get your name.”

"Oh now you notice I'm not with you... now that you've all got your precious names. I, for one, don't need anything from Dad or Mom."

"You don't want your name?" Mom asked.

"No. I don't want my name," Five confirmed.

A moment of silence followed. Some of the kids wondered if mom was disappointed. Five stood defiant waiting for an argument. Luther noticed that he could see his reflection in the nearby teapot and was lost in self-admiration.

Number Five had been found some time after Klaus was located. In contrast to Number Four, Five was found thriving, the centre of a happy Jewish family right here in New York City. The negotiation to adopt five was intense and Sir Hargreeves was forced to denote significantly to the family, including the purchase of land of theirs that had been taken by the Nazis in WWII Poland. Five, who had always been fiercely independent, even as an infant, Grace decided, needed a strong name. Grace searched her databases and settled on the Hebrew name, Dann, meaning "independent" and "hero". A name she would keep to herself until he was ready. After all, Grace figured, there was ample time for him to learn his name.

As the moment stretched to two, mom gave a little shake of her head as though awakening from a trance, or maybe just resetting a program in her mind. She looked around at the children all seated at the table, "Would anyone like a hot cocoa?" she asked.


End file.
